


Nothing Was Stirring

by noveltea



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, F/M, Genderswap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-10
Updated: 2010-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-10 11:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/99453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noveltea/pseuds/noveltea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Christmas, and Deanna has her very own personal angel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing Was Stirring

It was at Sam's insistence that they spent Christmas in a hotel. An actual hotel with nice, big beds and clean carpets and a restaurant down stairs. Deanna hated spending the money on something so trivial; she thought Sammy mad for wanting to waste the money. But deep down she appreciated his brand of bullying.

It had been quiet. _Too_ quiet, she might have said, but she needed the rest. She'd just never admit to it.

Sam booked the rooms. Separate rooms.

Again.

Deanna tried very hard not to think about the reasons why. She might have been grateful to Ruby for saving her baby brother, but she certainly didn't want to think about Sam and the demon. She might not have spotted Ruby yet, but she knew she was around. She was Sam's weakness now, like Sam was hers.

They had dinner together on Christmas Eve. Sam escaped to his room early, not even bothering to ask whether his sister would like his company. She didn't blame him; the bartender had been making eyes at her all through dinner and she knew she could have easily have had company for the evening, but she didn't feel like it. She'd started to appreciate the quiet – it was everything Hell wasn't.

She'd changed, in more ways than one.

She stripped down to pyjama shorts and a tank top and walked barefoot around the heated hotel room collecting a blanket and pillow and a glass from the sideboard. She found an old monster movie classic on pay per view and settled down for a relaxing evening of exactly nothing. Had she had a cold beer, the evening would have been perfect, but she settled for Scotch. "Merry Christmas," she toasted herself, and sank back into the cushioned couch.

"I never understood how the celebration of Christmas went from a religious event to a mass-market commercial holiday."

Deanna jumped visibly, starting at the unexpected appearance of Castiel on the couch beside her. The scotch in the glass in her hand sloshed over the side, running down her fingers. She sucked the liquid off, while glaring at the angel. "What are you doing here, Cas? Aside from scaring the shit out of me."

He arched an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Taking a holiday?" he asked.

"Doing something for my brother," she quipped back. "'Tis the season and all that. I'm just along for the ride." She sank back against the pillows again and stared ahead at the tv. "I was enjoying myself, so keep your doom and gloom to yourself."

Castiel leaned forward, resting his head on his hands. Out the corner of her eye she watched him, trying to ignore the facts in front of her: the angel was ridiculously attractive, and she was having a hard time ignoring the fact.

She found it ironic that Sam had found himself and demon, and she'd wound up with an angel following her around. Some things in life just didn't seem to make any sense at all.

"Aren't you hot?" she asked, finally. The temperature in the room was comfortable bordering on warm, and he was still wearing that damn trench coat and suit. Holy Tax Accountant indeed.

He looked over to her. "No."

She frowned. "You're wearing too many clothes," she told him. Clearly she was just building a stronger case for her return to Hell, but she couldn't care less. He was an uninvited guest and she could take advantage of that.

Castiel raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything.

"You should also change your outfit once in a while," she remarked, wondering why on earth she was giving _anyone_ fashion advice, even an angel.

She could have sworn he smirked. "I'll take that under consideration."

She pulled her knees up to her chest, her full attention back on the angel. "Alright, so what gives?"

"You're alone. On Christmas," he replied, as if it explained anything.

"I'm always alone on Christmas," she told him. "My special tradition. I didn't think Angels of the Lord would have any use for Christmas. You know, with its commercialist nature and all."

A smile tugged at his lips. "Perhaps not."

"Ouch." She smirked. "I guess I could ask you about the real Christmas," she started, "but the truth is I really don't care. Sammy's the one who's curious about it. I'm more than happy to ignore the whole thing." Off the angel's long stare, she rolled her eyes. "And don't give me another speech about faith, Cas."

He blinked slowly. "I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, drawing out the words. He'd learnt to play along with her, or so it seemed.

"Good."

She half wanted to tell him to piss off – that if he was here something big and bad was likely to be afoot. But for once, the part of her that wanted to pretend like nothing was wrong with the world won out. She needed the illusion.

She kept her mouth shut.

And for once it was Castiel who spoke to break the silence that had fallen like a curtain between them. "I know the past few months have been difficult for you, Dan-"  
Deanna snorted. "That's putting it mildly."

He threw her a bemused look. "I was going to say that I think you've done a good job. It's not easy." He reached over to take hold of one her hands, holding it between both of his.

Shock still coursed through her body anytime he touched her, and she wondered how much of that had to do with his being an angel, and how much it had to do with his host being ridiculously attractive. Despite his physical body, Castiel the angel was still an abstract construct in her mind, something she didn't associate with physical contact, or even something that was real. His warm hand wrapped around her own sent shivers down her spine.

Mingled amongst ridiculous feelings of lust, were the painful, unwanted memories of Hell. His very touch brought all those to the surface, and the handprint-scar left on her body tingled uncomfortably.

He felt human, but she knew he was anything but.

She sighed a shaky breath and tried subtly to extricate her hand, but he held onto it firmly and she wasn't about to yank her hand out. He wasn't a threat and she wasn't about to be rude. Not when he was likely going to have to save her ass in the near future.

Instead, she inched closer to him until her bare legs were against his trouser-clad ones. They were so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

"No," she told him. "It's not easy."

His blue eyes were unreadable, but he let go of her hand. "Deanna." Though his voice was even, she could hear the undercurrent of warning.

She hesitated, only for a moment. Then she shuffled away.

He was gone before she finished moving and she cursed audibly.

Goddamn angels.

What she wouldn't have given for Past, Present and Future angels instead of her own too-good-looking-for-his-own-good guardian angel who was off-limits.

With a groan, she reached for her drink.


End file.
